


messin' up my mind

by SkyRose



Series: Game of Requirement 2019 [4]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Denial of Feelings, Friends to Lovers, Hogwarts Seventh Year, M/M, Pining, Quidditch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-17
Updated: 2019-07-17
Packaged: 2020-06-30 00:50:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19842082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyRose/pseuds/SkyRose
Summary: Oliver's attention keeps drifting to a certain ginger Head Boy.It's the twins' fault, of course.





	messin' up my mind

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #66 It's his 7th Year and he should be focused on Quidditch, schoolwork, and...more Quidditch. But someone keeps creeping into Oliver's thoughts. He's not pining. He's not smitten. He's...not in denial. Is he?
> 
> I also chose #33 & #79 from The List which are:  
> -A character hands another character money, having lost a bet in regard to the pairing in question getting together  
> -Someone quotes Shakespeare (Angelina does in the final scene... in case you were wondering)
> 
> Would you look at that! This one isn't femslash!

Oliver Wood had one single year left at Hogwarts. This was the year he would lead the Gryffindor Quidditch team to victory. He’d make sure his precious Seeker stayed healthy and no more secret chambers decided to muck anything up. 

He already had rigorous practice plans. His teammates weren’t going to like it, until they win, that is. Because they _will_ win. And _nothing_ would take Oliver’s eyes away from the prize. The cup, that is.

“Good luck getting Fred and George up that early on Saturdays,” Percy said when Oliver shoved the schedule outline into his face. “I’d avoid invading their dorm. That’d be a one-way ticket to a Bat-Bogey Hex.”

“Y’know, my teammates have tremendous respect for me and my leadership skills,” Oliver replied, leaning heavily on the hand resting on Percy’s desk. “They’ll trust my judgement for practice times.”

Percy was humoured, a hint of a smile on his normally stoic face. He turned back to whatever book had his attention before Oliver barged in. 

Oliver assumed it was schoolwork, but knowing Percy it could be for fun. Oliver had an essay he was meant to work on. He needed to stay on top of assignments, as Quidditch was going to take up a significant amount of his time. He hopped onto his bed, summoning his satchel with his wand. He rummaged through it, grabbing loose parchment and a Self-Inking Quill.

Focus wasn’t something Oliver considered to be a skill of his, outside of Quidditch, of course. He wasn’t hyper, not anymore. As a child, he would run around his yard for hours on a toy broomstick. His mother struggled to keep him sitting still at the dinner table. But now, Oliver was seventeen and could handle sitting still. It was his mind that had trouble.

Often, he replayed exciting moments in matches he had played or watched. Sometimes he thought of girls, like Katherine Henney, a Ravenclaw girl who had been a year ahead of him. She had dark auburn hair, the type that usually looked brown, especially within the castle. Once she got in the sun, it gained a reddish hue. 

It wasn’t anything like Percy’s hair. Oliver could see him in his peripheral from where he was sitting on his bed. Percy’s hair, or any Weasley’s, was bright and fiery. Oliver always thought it was funny on Percy. It fit all his siblings, but not reserved Percy. 

Oliver was openly staring at Percy now, wondering how Percy’s hair could stand out in a room full of scarlet. His quill lay discarded at his side. There was a single, half-finished sentence on the parchment in his lap.

Percy, without even throwing him a glance, stated, “Get to work, Wood.”

Oliver jumped at the sound of his voice, piercing through the silence of their dorm. He hastily scooped up his quill and got back to writing. 

See, his mind wandered. It was a normal occurrence in his fast-paced, Quidditch-driven life. Even Percy knew it was a problem to look out for.

\---

“You’re joking, mate,” George deadpanned. The Gryffindor Quidditch team was huddled around a table in the common room, looking at the schedule Oliver had laid out for them.

“You do know I’m only thirteen?” Harry said with wide eyes. He looked up at Oliver. “It’s important to me that you know I’m only thirteen.”

“You’ll do fine, Potter. All of you will!” Oliver assured his teammates. They were all so dramatic for athletes. “I mean, you all want to win? This is how we’ll do it.”

“Oliver, we’ve got an amazing team,” Angelina spoke up. She was the only one who could ever convince Oliver to change his plans, and she knew that fact. She used her persuasion abilities sparingly.

“I know,” Oliver said. Her point only helped him, in his eyes. They would be unstoppable with extra practice hours.

“Maybe you should be worried about overexertion,” Angelina pointed out. 

George nodded rapidly in agreement. “If I fall asleep on a broom, I’ll sue you!”

“And we’ll hate you,” Fred agreed. “So there’s that.”

Oliver looked around at his teammates for any sign of support. He made eye contact with Alicia, who immediately blurted, “I’d like to be able to spend some time with my boyfriend!”

“Bell?” Oliver asked, feeling suddenly hopeless.

“Well…” Katie hesitated. Angelina nudged her with her elbow. “Sorry, Captain, but I think is a bloody awful idea.”

Oliver deflated, falling forward onto the table. He breathed a frustrated groan into the wood surface. Someone patted his back. His brain weighed his options.

He sprung back up. “Alright, fine! If everyone promises to be on time, I’ll shorten the weekend practices.”

His teammates hollered victoriously, the twins waving their fists in the air. Oliver dismissed them. Harry ran off to where Ron and Hermione sat near the fireplace. The girls wandered to the portrait, likely intending to get to the Great Hall early for dinner. Fred and George stayed at Oliver’s side as he put away the schedule.

“Have you, and we don’t mean to offend you, but have you ever thought that you are a bit too… _obsessed_ with Quidditch?” George questioned as his brother nodded solemnly.

“It’s the duty of a captain to take their job seriously. I know you uncommitted Beaters could never understand that—”

“Ha, you said duty,” Fred cut off. Oliver shook his head, moving to go up to his dorm. Fred stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Wait, Wood. We just wanted to say, maybe you need something else to fill your time.”

“What sort of thing?” Oliver asked, folding his arms in front of his chest. 

“Well, it’s like Alicia said. You need someone to _sneak_ into the Quidditch stands with. Or someone to _study_ in the library with. Just someone you want to spend quality time with every weekend,” George explained.

“I don’t need a girlfriend,” Oliver replied with a roll of his eyes.

“Why not?” Fred asked. “I mean, you’re a sturdy, strong boy. There are plenty of girls who’d love to be with you, so there’s no need to worry.”

Oliver opened and closed his mouth. He looked between the twins, trying to voice his dislike at their idea. He couldn’t quite figure out the right words. Their thick skulls would never get it anyway.

“If _Percy_ can get a girlfriend, _you_ can date anyone in this school,” George promised after they failed to get a response from Oliver.

Penelope Clearwater came into Percy’s life at the end of fifth year. Oliver had been thrilled for him at first, but after a while… 

_He was always with her!_ It was odd. Percy used to be in their dorm constantly. Oliver liked having him around when he needed a brain bigger than his or simply for a chat. 

Actually, now that Oliver thought about it, Percy hadn’t mentioned Penelope since the start of seventh year. Perhaps they’d broken up over the summer. Maybe over a letter, since the twins mentioned Percy and Penelope wrote constantly. Oliver would think he’d hear of such a thing, from Percy himself or among the hallway gossip. 

“Are they still together? Percy and Penny?” Oliver asked, shifting the focus away from his romantic life.

“Oh? _Penny_ to you, is she?” Fred gave a suggestive wink.

“Last I heard they had a big ole fight,” George answered. “So she’s free for the taking, if she’s caught your dashing eyes.”

Oliver shook his head, finally able to walk away from their nonsense. “I’d better see you boys at the pitch tomorrow morning!” he shouted to them as he approached the stairs to the dorms.

“Yes sir!” the twins said in unison, giving him a salute.

Oliver wasn’t going to let their words get to him. He _needed_ to devote as much time to Quidditch as possible. 

Oh, and schoolwork too.

\---

Oliver’s eyelids drooped again. He shook himself, trying to fight his weariness and focus on Flitwick’s lecture. The early practice went great! But Oliver could admit it was draining. Lectures were hard to listen to on days when he wasn’t struggling against exhaustion.

He did his best to keep his eye on Flitwick, watching his mouth move and mustache bounce. But… It had already been established Oliver Wood has a dreadful attention span.

In this case, his mind did not wander. It was his eyes.

They drifted from the front of the classroom where his professor stood on a chair, to the many backs of heads in Oliver’s views. There was Marcus Flint, whose head rested in his arms, nearly snoring. And Marie Twindle, a Slytherin with pin-straight light brown hair, with her head tipped down as she scribbled something onto parchment. It was unlikely it was notes relating to the lecture. The next table over there was…

Well, he’s got ginger hair and a straight posture that Oliver should adapt, if he does plan on becoming a professional athlete. The sight of Percy reminded Oliver of his brothers. 

As Oliver tried to sleep the previous night, he kept thinking. Because Oliver could admit he _was_ being a little zealous about practice. He tried to rationalize it with _it’s my last year!_

But, that wasn’t what bothered him. Not really. 

It was the girlfriend thing.

It’s just… Oliver’s never been too interested in any of his peers. Sure, sometimes he daydreamed about Katherine Henney or Marie Twindle or the dozens of girls in Hogwarts, but it never became serious infatuation. And, well, Oliver read enough Quidditch magazines with shirtless players that there were some rumours. He read them for the articles, truly.

His eyes… wandered to the abs… accidentally.

Oliver was coming to the realization he was _probably_ gay. He emphasized _probably_ because it wasn’t like he ever had a crush on any boy at Hogwarts. 

Maybe Charlie Weasley was the closest thing to a crush Oliver ever had. However, _everyone_ liked Charlie. He oozed charisma like a jelly slug oozed, well, jelly. So maybe that wasn’t a crush, not a true one. Oliver was rather young then anyway. He simply respected Charlie for the top-notch player he was.

Oliver stared at the redhead in front of him. For the longest time, everyone thought Percy was gay. It was a bit more malicious in his case. Oliver stood up for him whenever he heard names thrown Percy’s way. Then, the school learned he was with Penelope and it all died down.

He wondered if there was some truth in it. Percy always blushed when Oliver undressed in their dorm, though he probably thought Oliver didn’t notice it. Percy blushed around Oliver a lot, actually. Oliver thought it was cute. Lots of things Percy did were cute. 

Like the way he flattened the front of his robes and straightened his Head Boy badge before exiting their dorms every day, without fail. Or when a younger student was upset and he’d talk all quiet and calm to them, looking every bit the older brother he was to the twins, Ron, Ginny. And the other day, when they were discussing the Quidditch schedule, and his mouth was nearly a smirk and his eyes humoured. Or that very morning, at breakfast, when Percy was reading the Daily Prophet and his glasses fell down his nose. Oliver had reached over the table to push them back. Percy had blinked at him and breathed a small _thanks,_ visibly embarrassed he didn’t catch his misplaced appearance himself.

The bells clanged, interrupting Oliver’s rambling thoughts. His classmates began to rush out of the room. Oliver scrambled to put his things in the bag. He saw Percy approaching his desk and he caught him by the robes to keep him from leaving the room.

“Did Flitwick assign anything?” Oliver asked in a hushed voice so the professor didn’t hear.

Percy rose an eyebrow, lips twitching as if unsure to smile or frown. “You’re a seventh-year, Oliver. You should know to pay attention,” he answered astutely.

“Percy, please?” Oliver said, sticking out his bottom lip for emphasis.

Percy grabbed the quill in Oliver’s hand. The brush of fingers made Oliver’s stomach swirl. Percy wrote down the assignment, leaning significantly into Oliver’s personal space, as Oliver stared bug-eyed at him.

 _Oh shit oh shit oh shit,_ his brain chanted.

\---

Oliver was stood on the grassy bottom of the Quidditch pitch, looking up at his Chasers passing around the Quaffle. The twins were whacking around the Bludger, trying to muck up their well-timed throws. 

Just like they had mucked up Oliver’s brain. 

Because it was certainly all their mischievous fault. Maybe that was their intent all along, some cruel prank on their captain and elder brother. Embarrass them both with one little interrogation. 

Oliver would not let them get to him. _He was not pining over Percy Weasley._

Merlin, they had known each other for years! It would be some coincidence if Oliver all the sudden started liking him the very last year of Hogwarts. The year he was meant to take home the cup!

And besides, Percy wasn’t Oliver’s type. Oliver’s type was… goalposts, if you asked some of his smart-aleck friends, which were nearly all of them.

Oliver needed a plan of action. He needed to prove this was all in his head, and _not_ in his heart. He’d seek out Percy after practice, try to spend some time with him. He’d realize that studious, freckled Percy Weasley was not _cute_ or worth cutting down Quidditch practice over.

“You alright down there, Cap’n?” Fred asked as he skidded to a halt on his broom. He grinned at catching Oliver in a daze.

“Dandy, Weasley!” Oliver shouted to him. He gave him a genuine smile. “Everything’s just dandy.”

\---

“Hey, Perce,” Oliver greeted when he finally found the Head Boy in the library, of course.

Percy glanced up from his textbook. “Hello, Oliver. Need something?”

Oliver immediately noticed a near-hidden frustration to his voice. His shoulders were tensed too. Perhaps he had been hunched over his book for too long. “Yes, actually. I was wondering if you could help me with the Charms assignment? I didn’t exactly have my wits with me in class the other day. Quidditch can be exhausting, even I can admit.”

Percy sighed. He pulled out a scroll from his bag and handed it to Oliver. “Here, just copy whatever you missed.”

Now, there were many ways to tell if someone was monstrously upset. In Percy Weasley’s case, there was a sure-fire tell. It was breaking any sort of morality.

“Are you ill?” Oliver responded, not taking the scroll offered to him.

Percy’s eyes scrunched closed. “No, Oliver, I’m _busy._ Impossibly busy. Always more to do, more to read, more to write. Honestly, I don’t know why I accepted this Head Boy role. I can’t even keep my brothers in check.”

“Have Fred and George been giving you trouble?” Oliver prompted, finally settling into the chair opposite of Percy.

“You know the answer to that,” Percy replied with a roll of his blue eyes.

“If you need any help,” Oliver began, “With class stuff or Head Boy duties, just let me know. I’d be glad to help a mate out.”

“Thanks,” Percy said with the hint of a smile Oliver was growing fond of.

 _No,_ Oliver reminded himself. _I’m not growing fond of anything._

“But I think I can handle everything. However, you’ll need to ask someone else about the Charms assignment. I’ve got Transfiguration to worry about,” Percy continued, eyebrows drawing together. He lowered his face back into his book when he finished.

Oliver bit his tongue to prevent himself from saying anything else. Percy was clearly giving him a silent _bugger off, mate, I need to focus._ Oliver would comply, even if he didn’t get the time he hoped to spend with him. 

He stood from the chair, about to turn to leave, when Percy spoke up again. “Wait!”

Oliver silently waited, ignoring the way his heart leaped.

“Actually, there is something… you could do for me,” Percy stated. 

“Yeah?” Oliver nearly grinned.

“I know Fred and George probably have some big prank planned for Halloween,” Percy explained. “And I think the stress of trying to keep an eye on them both, failing, then having to discipline them may kill me. Could you… talk to them? Ask them to not pull anything ridiculous? They’ll listen to you, they respect you!”

Oliver nearly deflated. He hoped Percy would have a request that meant spending time with him, y’know, like this was supposed to be. And he really didn’t want to have any more heart-to-hearts with the twins, but…

Percy did look miserable. The underside of his eyes was dark and he appeared close to forming some premature wrinkles. Oliver would talk to them, for the sake of Percy’s good health.

“Sure thing,” Oliver assured. “Halloween will be calm, mark my words.”

\---

Before Fred and George ran off to shower, Oliver managed to catch them. They groaned at the stern expression on his face, wrongly assuming he was going to make them practice more.

“C’mon, Wood, it’s a Sunday!” George exclaimed.

“The Lord’s day!” Fred agreed.

Oliver didn’t let himself be distracted by confusion — because, really, what would two purebloods know about Muggle religion — and waved his hands at them. “Calm down, it’s not that.”

“What is it then?” Fred said with a tilt of his head.

“Well, your brother—” the Weasleys immediately perked up, “is really stressed right now. Whatever you’ve got planned for Halloween, you should cancel it.”

Fred and George turned to each other, wide-eyed, before bursting out into a fit of maniacal laughter. 

“That’s a good one!”

“Cancel a prank!”

“Such a jolly laugh!”

“And for Percy’s sake, ha!”

“I’m being serious, you thick Beaters!” Oliver interjected. He placed his hand on his hips as he looked between them. “He told me to copy his essay!”

The twins halted their chortling. “And?” they said in unison.

“That’s not normal! It means he’s bloody stressed out!” Oliver raised his voice and probably looked a bit crazed, if the twins’ reactions were anything to go by. He felt really silly all the sudden. 

And a bit angry.

Because this was _their_ fault, not his. He had gone through six years of Hogwarts all fine and dandy as a single lad. He didn’t need to be catching feelings during to biggest year of his Quidditch career. So far, that is.

“Since when did you care so strongly for the Perfect Prefect Percy?” George questioned.

“Yeah, you’re dormmates and all that, but…” Fred eyed Oliver suspiciously.

“Do I need to threaten you both with extra practice?” Oliver prompted, narrowing his eyes at them. He should have started with that, as they immediately complied.

“Alright…” Fred breathed, shoulders sagging.

“Maybe… we’ll tone down some bits.” George said.

Oliver didn’t bother to respond, just wandered off to the showers. He needed hot water to burn the Weasley twins’ nonsense of his brain. And their older brother’s face, too.

\---

Oliver shoved the door to his dorm open, a bit rougher than he intended. He entered to find it nearly empty, save for Percy lounging on his bed. The one person Oliver _really_ didn’t want to see.

Percy gave him a once-over through his glasses. Oliver was suddenly self-conscious of his damp hair. He ran his fingers through it and frowned.

“Bad practice?”

Oliver huffed as he made his way to his bed. He jumped onto it, bouncing as he landed on his back. “Your brothers are driving me mad.”

“Oh?”

“They told me I need a girlfriend, and now…” Oliver trailed off with a frustrated sigh.

“They’re good at getting under people’s skin,” Percy advised. “Don’t let it get to you. Honestly, I’m surprised that sort of thing would bother you.”

Oliver blinked, sitting up to look at Percy. “Why?”

Percy’s eyes were fixed on the letter he had been reading when Oliver entered. “Er… I mean, you could date anyone, if you wanted to. Well, maybe not some of the Slytherins. But I can say for a fact that there are multiple people in this school that like you.”

Oliver picked at his fingernails. “No, it’s not _that._ I’ve never really wanted to date anyone. I’m not _desperate.”_

Percy nodded slowly. “Then what’s got you upset?”

“I guess… since I’ve been thinking about it, there is someone I might wanna date. But… I’m not sure?” Oliver flopped back down into his bed. “It’s so confusing.”

Percy was silent for a few moments, which worried Oliver, until he finally said, “Penelope would go on a date, if you asked.”

_“Huh?”_

“Fred and George… may have mentioned… you like her,” Percy explained slowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep—”

“I don’t like Penelope,” Oliver stated flatly. “Why would you think I like Penelope?”

Percy squirmed. “They said… Nevermind. Who is it then?”

Oliver froze. He hadn’t been intending this conversation to lead to that question, but he supposed he should have. “I’d rather not say.”

“You don’t trust me?”

“You never told me _you_ liked Penelope.”

“Fair enough,” Percy replied. “For what it’s worth, you should talk to whoever it is. They _will_ go out with you.”

Oliver sighed. _If only it were that easy._ Oh well, this would all blow over soon. The November match was approaching, then Oliver wouldn’t be thinking about any maybe-crushes or Weasleys.

\---

Halloween was not stress-free, though that had nothing to do with Fred and George.

It was that git Sirius Black. Percy was on high-alert now. Oliver felt even worse for him. It was bad enough with rascally brothers, but a murderer chasing down the students you were in charge of… that was unprecedented, even in Hogwarts.

And there was a giant snake last year. 

And whatever the hell happened with Quirrell before.

Hopefully Sirius Black didn’t lead any Quidditch matches being called off, Oliver wouldn’t know what to do with himself then. He’d be left alone with schoolwork and thoughts of Percy Weasley.

Because the thoughts never ceased. It didn’t help they shared classes, a common room, and a dorm. Percy always seemed to be where Oliver was, despite his efforts.

\---

Game day had arrived. While they weren’t playing Slytherin, Hufflepuff could still put up a fight. Cedric Diggory was the main threat. He was a brilliant Seeker. Not as brilliant as Harry, Oliver knew, but even star players had off-days.

As they always did on such momentous days, the team was sat at the end of the Gryffindor table together. They donned their gold and crimson jumpers, which was another tradition. There was one unwritten law that Oliver’s teammates knew very well. Oliver was constantly jabbering before a match. Inspirational jargon and energetic compliments and so on. Except, during this breakfast, he was silent.

The Chasers shared amused looks, all immediately picking up on _why_ their Captain was acting out of character. He was staring straight at the reason, of course.

Percy was sat with his dormmates, other than Oliver, equally quiet as his onlooker. He had his Gryffindor scarf draped over him, ready to support his House’s team as well as his friends and brothers. He looked tired, his Head Boy responsibilities, schoolwork, and now the Sirius Black break-in all weighing on him. One more stunt by his brothers might shatter him.

Speaking of brothers, Fred and George noticed Oliver’s noiseless state halfway through breakfast. It puzzled them at first, but the girls’ giddiness soon clued them in to what was going on. And their poor older brother had no idea nearly the entire Quidditch team’s eyes were on him. 

The Beaters and Chasers exchanged whispers, mindful to see if Oliver noticed. He didn’t, of course. He was too busy contemplating his denial regarding his true feelings.

Then Percy finished eating and exited the Great Hall. Oliver turned his attention back to his teammates, finding them all staring at him expectantly, even Harry.

Oliver took a slow bite of his toast. “Wot?” he questioned through a full mouth.

Harry was the first to pipe up. “Are you feeling alright?”

Oliver nodded. “‘Course,” Oliver answered. “Didn’t sleep the best, but I never do before a game.”

Fred hummed and George nodded. Angelina leaned forward on the table. “Any interesting dreams?” she asked. Alicia choked on her orange juice and Katie fell into a fit of giggles.

Oliver turned to Harry. “I feel like I’m missing something.”

Harry patted Oliver’s shoulder. “You seem a bit out of it, that’s all, just be a bit more attentive at the goalposts today.”

It wasn’t the truth, so Oliver couldn’t find much comfort in the words. There was no comfort to be found when the Weasley twins had a scheming glint in their eyes.

\---

They lost, all thanks to some bloody Dementors. Harry was fine, thank Merlin. Oliver’s stomach jumped up into his chest at the sight of him falling. Cedric was a good sport about it, but Oliver could accept defeat at a worthy opponent. 

They still had a chance. The other games could go their way. Oliver would have to remind them all of that, once they finished their moping about. Oliver included.

He took a long shower, quite literally trying to drown his sorrows. It didn’t work. Nothing could shake it. He wondered if a Dementor was going to invade the locker room and kiss him. Not how he imagined going out, it was always a Quaffle-related injury in his nightmares. Surely all his doom and gloom would be tantalizing to a Dementor.

“George? Fred?” a voice echoed in the locker room. It made Oliver’s heart jump as his blood simultaneously ran cold. Oliver had just, thankfully, planned on his jumper, so he was fully clothed when Percy Weasley came into view. “Oh, Oliver! Sorry about the game.” 

Oliver shrugged. “It’s okay, we’ll win the next one,” he replied unconvincingly.

“For what it’s worth, you were as amazing as always,” Percy complimented, taking a step closer to Oliver. “You’re a real good Keeper, even I can see that.”

Oliver hated how his cheeks flushed at Percy’s words. “Thanks.”

“And I know you’ll win the Cup this year,” Percy continued. “You’re an amazing leader to an equally amazing team.”

Oliver grinned, feeling some of his despair being lifted from his shoulders. “I think I’ll have you do the pre-game pep talk for the next game.”

Percy was almost smiling, as he so often did around Oliver. He wondered if the room was spinning, or if it was only his head.

“Kiss him, you git!” George’s voice cut in. Oliver and Percy both turned to see the twins peeking around a corner at them. Fred was laughing while George had an unusual look of seriousness.

“Is… he talking to you or me?” Percy asked with wide eyes, his face a shade rivaling his hair.

“Dunno,” Oliver breathed.

“Both of you!” George shouted, gesturing to them wildly. “Either of you!”

Oliver supposed this wasn’t a time for denial. He didn’t have any more in him. It was emotionally draining, trying to convince yourself there were no feelings in places there so clearly were. Clear enough for his teammates to know it. 

Oliver reached up and cupped Percy’s jaw. Percy’s eyebrows drew together, but he didn’t voice any rejection, so Oliver leaned in. Their lips brushed. Percy jerked forward to press them together solidly.

 _“Uck,”_ Fred and George complained in unison.

Percy pulled away to glare at them. “You encouraged this.”

“Yes, well, we want you to be happy, dear brother, but we _do not_ want to see it,” George explained before he and his brother ran off.

Percy turned back to Oliver, embarrassed by his own brothers, and tried to lean in for another kiss. Unfortunately, Oliver started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“What?” Percy demanded.

“Sorry, sorry,” Oliver said, trying to calm himself. “I’m just… happy. I’m thrilled. And your brothers are hilarious.”

Percy grinned, wide and brilliant and it made Oliver’s whole world stop. “Hmm, I guess occasionally their mischief leads to good things.”

They kissed again, and then a few times more. They had the whole locker room to themselves, after all, and Oliver was in desperate need of a good cheer-up. And Percy was need of a distraction from life’s pressure.

So, no, Oliver Wood did not get kissed by a Dementor. He snogged Percy Weasley.

\---

The next morning, in the Great Hall, Oliver and Percy sat next to each other. Oliver had an arm around Percy as they watched the twins dividing a few Sickles and Galleons.

There had been a bet before the game. George and Angelina were convinced that Oliver and Percy would be a couple by the end of the day, while Alicia and Fred weren’t as easily persuaded by a yearning stare. The twins asked Percy to come to the locker room after the game to see what would happen between the seventh years.

“I think you cheated!” Fred argued. “That shouting nonsense was totally against the rules.”

“What’s done is done,” Angelina pointed out, gazing lovingly down at the Galleons in front of her.

Oliver rolled his eyes. He turned to the soul Chaser who didn’t participate in the bet. “What about you, Bell?”

“I’d never gossip about my Captain,” Katie replied. “I have respect for you.”

“And you, Potter?” Oliver prompted.

“I’m a young child, Oliver. Children should _never_ gamble,” Harry answered with a hint of sarcasm. 

“Good lad,” Oliver said, reaching over to tousle his already wild hair.

“So now that you’ve got yourself a _boyfriend,”_ Fred began, pausing to wink at Percy. “Does this mean you’ll cancel a few practices?”

Oliver and Percy shared a look. 

“Of course not,” Oliver said. He pressed a quick kiss to Percy’s cheek. “We’ll be doing five practices a week from this point on.”

His teammates groaned.

The thing is, Oliver found a loophole. There was no need to cut any practice time when you were dating someone you shared a dorm with.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments appreciated!


End file.
